


Hyacinthus

by daredevilmoon



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Light BDSM, M/M, in which I pretend to be Joyce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 17:01:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2075970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daredevilmoon/pseuds/daredevilmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Thomas’s arms wrap around him to still him and he was his, both, Jimmy was his and he wanted to be - likes the bark and the sky and air and Thomas, lips chest hands against inside</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hyacinthus

He feels the press of the bark against his back, as yet only pressing but soon enough scraping as he slid from toes to heels. It would - it was - ah, it was and he let his head fall back and his hair tangle with snags of the tree as he stares into the dark sky all dusted through with stars.

His arms, too, and wrists, all scraping, and hurting, but not so much - not too much, just right, just enough to sneak and crack  at him when he shifts

\- no, his wrists didn’t hurt, they were bound in the slick press of Mr Barrow’s tie, far nicer than any of Jimmy’s own; they’d ruin it this way, but it was worth it. The tie meets the tree, not his wrists, and his arms slacken slightly behind him, pressing the length of the backside of his body against the tree, sliding onto the balls of feet to scrape his skin. And he’d - ah, yes, he’d have to spread his legs more because he wanted to feel like a slut, he does, and he’d gasp, he gasped, as the bark scrapes his soft thighs and his head ducks because he can’t look any more. Even now, even then, the shame of it was too much to be borne, yet he had to, because he

And Mr Barrow would, he steps close to him and tilts Jimmy’s head up to kiss him and be kissed in return - Jimmy’s lips would follow his because he wants them, he wanted them, oh god he wanted them, and Mr Barrow would taste like his cigarettes and kiss properly like none of the girls Jimmy’s ever kissed.  His hand, the good one, slips, the palm the fingers his fingers press over Jimmy’s nipple, nails he’d use his nails and Jimmy would moan into his mouth and he’d smile and Jimmy felt it against his lips.

And Thomas says something and what is it what what  -

"Don’t you want me inside you?"

And Jimmy groaned, he groans, he feels Thomas’s voice against his throat as it hums and he nods he does, he wants it, his legs spread he feels Thomas press against him and Jimmy’s prick can feel his, can feel trousers because Thomas’d be dressed

Thomas is dressed, and Thomas’s hand would touch him, like - yes, tight - ah - and he moans and wouldn’tt think can’t think of anything but because it’s Thomas who’d have his flies undone and he’d grab Jimmy’s thighs, and lifts him because he could,  his back scrapes against the bark and  he thinks he’d be marked for days and remember how Thomas, yes, when he won and Jimmy let him and Jimmy would have begged him remember how Thomas had taken him and profaned society and it was only them.

He’d, Mr Barrow, Thomas - he’d press his prick into Jimmy and, his prick was gorgeous of course pale until and then red and hot, hard and all for him, all for him, Jimmy groaned, sighs as his legs wrap around Thomas’s back because he’s taller, he’s bigger, his prick - he wondered, it may, and it would hurt and he would cry out and want it, everything everywhere - Thomas’s mouth on his neck and their chests would be flush and Thomas fucking into him and Jimmy’s back scrapes the tree with each thrust and he thought

Hurt, it all hurt, but in a way sending pleasure all over him and he would feel Thomas’s breaths ragged because he wanted Jimmy, he wants him and would and will, he will, and pleasure sparks all over Jimmy’s skin as he’s so given and taken and wants wanting wanted always

Loved

And his prick, he imagined, and Thomas perfect pristine Mr Barrow his Thomas all wrecked for him, only for Jimmy he’d had others but now it was only Jimmy’s, that face, his prick so - ah, he’d press into him and his rough hand would grab Jimmy’s prick and he wondered how that scar would feel rubbed against his tip and Thomas’s face would be his and possessive, too, because Jimmy was only his and Jimmy’d had others too but this wasn’t

Thomas’s arms wrap around him to still him and he was his, both, Jimmy was his and he wanted to be - likes the bark and the sky and air and Thomas, lips chest hands against inside and his prick he’d be so hot and he’d come off and Jimmy

Thomas’s good hand was around him and making Jimmy beg and he wants to would he says, “I love you” and Thomas makes him beg and Jimmy says, “Please, Thomas, please, you’re - I love your prick in me” and Thomas’s eyes would go  wide and dark and his mouth was so red

Thomas’s eyes would go wide and dark because he loves him, he does, he will always always will

And his good hand squeezed his prick nails scratching Jimmy’s head fell falls back and Thomas’s lips tongue would run over his Adam’s apple and suck and he’d  his lips red his mouth was so and around Jimmy’s prick and beautiful and Thomas’s eyes they were his and they look at him and Jimmy comes off into his mouth

Jimmy came off into his fist, gasping for breath against his bed, heat burning all around him. He remained, for a moment, motionless but for his absent little  tugs at his softening prick, come dripping over his fingers. He would have to say eventually. He was driving himself mad with these visions, these fantasies, and would go noticeably red whenever Mr Barrow looked at him - and Mr Barrow _did_ \- because Jimmy was thinking, always, I wonder what you look taste feel like.

Ad Jimmy made up his mind, not for the first time, to simply tell him. Or to simply kiss him and watch as his face became that one of love that belonged only to him. Only to him.


End file.
